In The Dark
by americananime
Summary: I was in a very bad mood (300 lines, a 500 word essay, and a substitute that could be called "Hitler") Little Scott peice. Wasn't sure what to rate it.


The Darkness  
By: americananime  
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A/N: I dunno, I felt like writing about sccccccott.   
  
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I slowly lay down on my mattress, closing my eyes tightly and taking off my shades.   
It hurts to close my eyes - the rays hit my eyelids and it hurts. This is the one time of the day when I   
get to take my shades off, though, and I know I've made it through another day, so it's my favorite   
time of the evening.  
The clock beside me read exactly 11:00. It was Monday night, and I was exhausted. A little   
face-off with the Brotherhood over the weekend, and today at school hadn't been any easier.  
It started out with first period - Chemistry. No one can fill Mr. McCoy's place, but we have him   
here at the Institute, so it doesn't matter.  
But the new guy, he's got this voice, that like gets in your ears. And down to the last nerve on your   
spine, and your head just pounds more and more with every word he says.  
And another thing. He ask me to remove my shades. I got detention for saying no, but no one ever   
took them off. Luckily. How many more narrow escapes like that can I make?  
After chemistry, I had a headache. It moved on to gym, which didn't help. My mind had been on my   
sight, and what the colors used to look like.  
I wondered just once what Duncan Matthew's hair color was, what the gym really looked like,   
everything. I can't see color. Just red. Funny, isn't it? Red. The color of anger. And I'm supposed to   
just stay calm and be the good one. And all I can see is red. Life's ironic.  
Next up was English, which I'm fairly good at, and Jean's in my class. I wondered what color her   
hair was - and then I remembered. It was red. Of course. At least I know one thing about Jean.  
During English, Lance flew paper airplanes at my head the whole time. I couldn't stand it anymore.   
I was ready to rip off my shades and scream.  
But Kitty was sitting right in the seat in front of me, and I knew I had to keep a lid on things. For   
her. For Jean. For the New Recruits. For the Professor. For everyone. But not for me.  
After English, it was break. I sat around, trying to figure out what the quickest way to make my   
head stop hurting was.  
Then Terran came waltzing over, insisting on seeing my eyes again. I can't stand that. Why doesn't   
she mind her own business? It's like, after that night at the Carnival, she won't leave me alone.   
Maybe I'm sending off the wrong signals or something.  
A few more classes, then Lunch. The cafeteria was blaring loud, so I decided to go outside, and I   
tried to sit as far away from everyone as possible.  
Kurt walked over. Kurt. I laughed at a few of his jokes, and I picked at my food a bit, but neither   
helped with my headache.  
By last period, I was ready to beg for an excuse to go home. Home? Where did that come from?   
To the Institute. It wasn't home.  
Anyway, I somehow got through Art. I got in trouble for painting a realistic portrait with blue hair   
and red eyes.  
Heh. Sounds like Kurt and me.   
When I got home, I completely blew the Professor off. I guess I should tell him about the   
headaches, but I don't want to, for some reason. Danger Room went as usual. We actually passed   
this one, even though Evan didn't show up. Again.   
I don't know what's up with him. You'd figure almost getting sent away - I mean, back to his   
parents - that he would straiten up. Maybe he wants to go home.  
I helped Kitty with geometry. Kurt messed with his image inducer, and I watched some old movie   
with Jean.  
Sometimes I hate Logan. He's always on my case. What's his problem with me? Anyway, I have   
extra danger room sessions for no reason.  
  
Have I ever mentioned that I hate it here?  
  
End.  
  
Afterwards Author's Note: Scott has a wave of self-pity and tells us he has headaches. Yeah, the   
end doesn't sound like him, ol' well. The end. 


End file.
